i’ve got a right mind to call it in
by omens
Summary: Mates stick around after the shag is over, they get bombed with you when your heart’s been wrecked. That’s why they matter more. .Cook/Naomi, bits of Cook/Effy. Post 4x03.


**Name:** Chris

**Title:** i've got a right mind to call it in

**Fandom:** Skins

**Genre:** General

**Rating:** M

**Summary:** Mates stick around after the shag is over, they get bombed with you when your heart's been wrecked. That's why they matter more. [Cook/Naomi, bits of Cook/Effy] Spoilery if you haven't seen 403.

I wasn't planning to write anything until after apocabigbang was over, but well, things happen. :)

Title is a lyric from Hughes by The New Amsterdams.

……

(you're a lot nicer than most people think, aren't you, cook?)

She kisses you.

As far as his day has gone, it's not the most surprising thing that's happened, but it may just be the biggest. Odd, that.

Her lips are soft on your cheek, and it pulls you away from his thoughts. She's the only girl who's ever done that and it's happened twice now. It shouldn't be this big thing, but it is because the thing is, its Naomi. Yeah she's fit and all, but she's also a mate. You actually like her. And most days she seems to like you too so this is a pretty fucking huge deal either way.

When you look at her, she's still close enough to feel her breath on your face and her eyes are on your lips and your heart is in your throat. Then she looks up you tilt your head just so. Contact.

This huge gust of wind blows through your stomach, that's what it feels like. Like somebody opened a door and this cold gust of early morning sea air sweeps in, clenching his stomach - in a good way. It's sweet. No one has ever kissed you in a sweet way before, including Naomi. The last time she kissed you, it had been hard, rushed, hot as fuck, and a pretty big kick to be honest. She'd been so sure that nothing would ever happen between the too of you. You knew better.

You just didn't think it would be like this.

Sometimes, yeah, you still think about it; the two of you, rolling around in the classroom, her shirt half off and your hand cupping the back of her head so you could kiss her the exact way you wanted to.

Now, Naomi just sort of presses her lips against yours, like holding hands, and they cling to your mouth without the mess of that junk girls smear all over their mouths that gets everywhere. When you break apart, you open your eyes first and it's not so much the sad look in hers that gets you, it's the fact that you're pretty sure she sniffles, just a bit.

And that does it.

It's just another way to self destruct.

(that's what i always loved about you, cook. brave.)

True to her word, Effy is at the trail, sandwiched in between Freddie and JJ. Your heart thumps a bit too hard in your chest so you look away before she can figure it out.

You're not sure what to make of that look on her face. But you can't think about that now because Pads has turned up and he's flippin' out. You wish you could stay and calm him down, but the cops look ready to drag you in by force if necessary. Effy looks a little shell shocked - can't really remember, but you've probably never told her about Pads before.

You want to stay with him, but you can't, and you know Freddie and JJ will watch out for him.

They all stare at you when you're walked out, cop on either side. Stopping to talk to them all, to check on your brother, would be nice, but they won't let you. You can't tell them what and old sod the judge was, watching you like he expected you to flinch when you heard what he had to say or some nonsense like that.

The last glimpse you catch of them pretty much says it all. Paddy is crying, Freddie's hands on his little shoulders, JJ doesn't look much better, and Effy… you can't really tell but you nod at her. It'll be alright, just got to cool your heels for a bit. She nods back.

At the door leading down bright red catches your eye and when you look over, Emily is there, sour look on her sweet face like she'd rather be anywhere in the world. She probably would, if not for the blonde standing beside her, offering you a small smile. She's fucking looking at you like you're mad and like you're her hero all rolled into one. It gives you a little bit of something like manly pride or some load like that, and you puff up until the cops push you onward. Tossers. Still, you can't help but turn around and throw her a wink, making her shake her head, still smiling.

(and nobody else was involved?)

(nope. nobody but me.)

The sentencing is two weeks later. JJ shows up, Naomi with him. They come in this time, and sit behind Duncan. They both look nervous as fuck, and you see Naomi suck in a harsh breath when they get a good look at you. Eh, it's only a black eye and a few scrapes, nothing to be concerned about. It's not like you haven't looked worse.

"Mr. Cook," the judge says. Duncan nudges you to stand up. You feel two jittery pairs of blue eyes on your back the whole time. "You understand the new charges against you?"

"Yup," you toss off.

Duncan hangs his head, you see Naomi rolling her eyes.

"And you're standing on your plea of guilty for the assault charges?"

"Yup."

Shuffling some papers, he purses his lips and his beady little eyes look up at you over his bifocals. "As for the other charges, illegal distribution of narcotics, contributing to the death of another, and withholding information in an ongoing investigation, how do you plead?"

"_Do you wanna know how I feel? I feel fucking terrible. My girlfriend won't look at me. I could cry any minute. I feel shit, and all I can do is... feel it."_

"Guilty."

You look over Duncan's head to see Naomi wiping at her eyes and JJ with that pathetic puppy look on his face. Jesus. Can't they see that you have to do this?

(i like her.)

Ninety days and a shit load of community service, that's what you get. Could have been worse.

Visiting days are on Saturdays. Freddie and Effy come once, Pads a few times when he can get away without your Mum noticing. JJ and Naomi though, they come every week. J brings you sweets and Naomi brings enough cigs to last the week. Neither one can be persuaded to smuggle in some beer though, no matter how hard you plead. After a couple visits Naomi finally gets tired of your whining - her word - and shows up with a water bottle full of vodka. Its fucking still sealed and everything. You ask her how she did it, but she just smiles and won't say.

"You're fucking fantastic you are." You smile so big it makes your cheeks hurt, but its worth it, to see her roll her eyes and fight back a grin of her own and watch JJ look between the two of you like he doesn't get it. Probably doesn't.

JJ's met a girl he likes. About time. Name's Lara, has a kid. That's a lot of baggage for anyone to take on, but this is JJ. You don't know if he can handle it, but Naomi shakes her head at you. Guess it's not really up to you so you tell him to go for it. Getting a bit will be good for him.

It takes a while but Naomi finally admits that she and Emily are on the outs. JJ is off doing magic for some kids on the other side of the yard, and she wipes at her eyes, snatches your cigarette and drags it down to almost nothing.

"You okay?"

She shrugs, not looking at you. "It was going to happen eventually. All that shit I did… that was bad enough, but then I 'let' you take the fall for me. I don't know, I guess it was just too much for her to handle on top of all her family drama. Said she needed some time to think."

Tossing the butt to the ground, you pull another one from your pocket. "That's how it works though, innit? You open your heart, the bad crawls in. But the way I see it, you get some of the good stuff first."

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest, looking all skeptical like she does whenever you're about to drop some Cookie wisdom to her. "Good stuff?"

"Yeah," you tell her. "You know… fun, laughs, sex. Good stuff."

Now she laughs. Took long enough. "You're probably right, Cook."

"No probably about it, babe. You know I'm right."

(see you next time.)

(yeah, you love me!)

You never thought you'd turn the big 1-8 in jail, but here you are.

Sucks.

"Hey kid, phone call."

Huh. Didn't think you'd be hearing from anyone. You got a handmade card in the mail from JJ, a store bought one from Pads, but that's about what you expected.

"Yeah?"

"Cook?" It's Freddie, bloody hell. "Happy birthday, mate."

"Thanks."

The line goes silent. You can almost see Freddie pulling that face he does, the one that makes you want to tell him to get his knickers out of a knot. "So, um, just a few more weeks, then?"

"Yeah."

There's a little bit of a noise, scuffling and muffled talking and then JJ's on the line, bouncy and excited, talking about Lara and the picnic they went on with her kid the day before. You can't help but smile at the image of JJ and some tot on the swings together. Make you think of when the three of you used to take Paddy to the park.

But he has to work - some job Thomas hooked him up with and then there's a silence during which you think you've been hung up on before another voice comes on the line.

"Happy Birthday."

You grin. "Ah, Naomikins, I knew you cared, but not enough to hang out with Freds just to talk to me. I'm flattered girl."

"Whatever." She plays it casual, but you know she's smiling, trying not to let on that she's enjoying it. "JJ wants to bring you a cake on Saturday, what kind do you want?"

You can't resist.

"You're gonna bake for me then? Gotta be true love there."

She laughs. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, you wish babe."

(you just live a bit harder than everyone else does.)

When you get out, Naomi and JJ are there, so is Freddie. Shocker.

"Free at last!" JJ's the closest, so you grab him and squeeze, ruffle his hair up a bit. You kiss him on the cheek, grinning at the other two. "You lot are a sight for sore eyes."

You hug Freddie and it's awkward, yeah, but it's still Freddie and you're _out_.

As usual, Naomi looks at you like she's trying to figure out just what the fuck you're on about, not that you care. You're just happy to see her outside of the ugly white walls and the pitiful chained in yard with the dead grass. So you grab her as well, swinging her around for a bit, and yeah she yells for you to let her go, but she's smiling so you figure it's just putting up a front.

After she slaps at your arm and fixes her shirt, she doesn't look as mad anymore. "Good to see that time behind bars hasn't dampened your spirits, Cook."

"Never, love." You drop one arm around her shoulders and one around JJ and you face Freddie as a unit. He looks pointedly at the arm hanging off Naomi's shoulder with kind of a pinched look on his face. Whatever. "So, where are we partying?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" JJ asks. "What if the police are planning to watch you, what if they're just waiting for any little reason to-"

"JJ, mate, relax. They've got me out of their hair, they're gonna be itchin' to keep me out of this place."

Naomi smirks. "And grey's not really your color."

"That's the spirit."

(nice one, blondie. she's funny.)

Turns out the college gave your dorm away when you got expelled and your stuff was boxed up and put in the basement.

"This is disgusting," Naomi complains, peeling something green off the bottom of her shoe, "and possibly violates some health codes somehow."

"Easy, Princess." You find one box toward the back, what turns out to be your duvet and sheets. At least no one took those like they did with the ounce you had stashed in the hollowed out History book. "J, man, you finding anything over there?"

JJ's head pops up from behind a stack of boxes labeled 'Yearbooks, 1999-2000' in the corner. There's a cobweb clinging to his hair and dirt smudged on his nose. "No, but I'm hopefully optimistic about these back here under the pipe."

Okay then.

Freddie is guarding the two you've already found outside the gate. He's got a thing about spiders, won't come in, so you've made him the scarecrow so to speak. Naomi's word. Damn, you've missed her.

She's missed you too, not that you didn't expect it. You're the only one who ever knows how to have any fun. No surprise she offers to let you stay at her place. Already asked her mum and everything. Really, she just can't live without you.

When you tell her as much, she flips you off.

It's fucking great to be back.

(ayo, at your window.)

Living with Naomi and her mum, it's a riot. Mrs. Campbell - 'call me Gina dear' - loves you, naturally, and seeing Naomi get all wound up about the wacky things her mother does is worth it. Even the threats are funny. Getting woken up to shouts of "If you go near my underwear drawer again I will castrate you with my bare hands" is better than the prison guards tapping on the bars any day.

Plus there's always food and you don't have to pay to wash your clothes and Kieran hangs about a lot, so Gina's ordered all the good channels.

It's a big step up. That much is sure.

Your community service blows. 300 hours at a soup kitchen. It wouldn't be so bad if they'd let you eat the food. Tossers. Naomi points out that they could have forced you to pick up trash beside the road or worse. Maybe she's right.

Pads somehow talks your mum into letting him come over to see you. Or so he says. Little monkey probably just snuck out and wandered over on his own. You're surprised he found his way back. The last time he was here he was passed out. He gets there early the day after you're released and he's so excited to see you that you don't even think about the raging hangover you have from celebrating your return to life at the pub last night.

Gina loads him up on cookies and soda and he just lets loose, bouncing all over you and dancing about, talking about these kids at school and how they play pirates at recess.

Naomi, she mostly just looks uncomfortable, sitting on the other end of the couch watching the two of you rough it up. This doesn't phase Pads though. He fucking loves her right off, seriously, sits there and stares at her like he's never seen a girl before. Turns out that last time he was over she let him eat three bowls of ice cream and watch the adult channels.

Nice one.

When you drop him back off he looks up at you, chocolate icing ringing his mouth and grins. "You should marry her, Cook. She's fit, and she smells really good."

You laugh. Yeah. The idea of you and Naomi married, fighting over the wash and who's turn it is to take the rubbish out - that's the funniest thing you've heard in ages.

(if your shag's not just a shag then you're always going to get your heart ripped out somewhere, aren't you?)

Emily starts dating someone.

You're at a club, doing shots of some cheap whiskey and Naomi is looking a bit woozy. You should probably get her home before the wanker that hasn't left her alone since you got there catches your head turned and tries something with her.

And you will, as soon as you can figure out what Effy and Freddie are yelling at each other about in the corner.

But then you see Emily. She's dancing with some brunette in a tiny little nothing of a dress, the same one you heard she's been seen about town with a few times already. Your eyes swing around for Naomi, finding her leaning heavily against a wall with a bottle of water pressed to her head. Girl's a lightweight. You should have stopped her on her third shot. She just never lets loose like that… it was nice to see her having a bit of fun for a change.

Just as you're about to make your way over to her Katie appears out of nowhere in front of you, Effy hovering behind her, blocking your path. "What?"

Hand on her hip, Katie takes a step closer and now she's the only thing you can see. Huh. Interesting position you're in. "You just better make sure your girlfriend stays the fuck away from my sister. She's done enough." She spins on those killer heels of hers and stomps off.

You look at Effy, silent as ever. "She's a peach, isn't she?"

Her lips quirk up. "You and Naomi are getting on well." Its not a question, just one of those Effy observations that always get your hackles up.

"Yeah, well, you know how it is."

You light a cig, needing something to do with yourself that doesn't involve looking at her. Idle hands, bad, always bad.

That's when she steps closer and pulls it from your lips, taking a drawl. That look is in her eyes and it hits you that you haven't seen Freddie in a while. Don't know why you're thinking about him. This is what you've been waiting for.

"_And I love you, too. Whatever you're doing, you can stop. All you got to do is stop."_

The pain is still there, like a hard throbbing at the base of your skull. It never really went away, and it pulses harder whenever you see Effy looking at Freddie in that way that makes you want to smash anything and everything.

You just want it to go away.

The colors on the floor flash and you remember Emily and her little friend. You turn around but Naomi's gone.

"Fuck."

Effy follows you when you tell her about Emily and that some prick has been after Naomi all night. She puts her hand on your shoulder and tips her head towards the loos. You see him, the tosser that was sniffing around Naomi, coming out of the girl's room doing up his trousers.

You see red.

He's tall, but scrawny and you toss him against the wall easy enough. He struggles against your arm over his skinny neck until you press harder and he finally stops squirming.

"Where is she?"

"Cook!" Effy pulls at your other arm. "He can't talk if you choke him."

Probably right. Doesn't mean that loosening up anymore than he needs to breath is necessary though. "Fine, right. We're all good here," you say, staring the little twit dead in the eye, "I just need to know where my mate is. See, she's in a bad way and I need to get her home, alright?"

"She's in the loo."

So you move your arm and he dashes off. You call after him that she better be alright or else. When he looks back you know he's heard you.

There's no one in the loo when you walk in. No one you can see. You can hear sniffling though, and the door to the handicap stall is the only one that's locked. You knock. "Naomi?"

"Go 'way."

Ah fuck, she's crying. Perfect. Well, you really have no other option. You drop onto your stomach and crawl under the door only to find her on the floor as well; backed up against the toilet with her legs pulled up in front of her. Her makeup is all over her face. "Fuck, girl, you look terrible."

She glares at you with murder in her eyes. "Gee thanks. Get the fuck out."

You grin and plop down beside her. "Enough of this. What happened; you see Emily with that bint out there and decide to stick it to her by letting what's his name stick it to you?"

"God, could be any cruder?" Naomi wipes angrily at her eyes, but it doesn't help. She's crying again, harder this time. She lays her head down and curls her arms up over her face, like she can hide from it all. You know that feeling. "I hate this."

Shit. Girls crying always fuck you up more than anything else ever does, and she's not just crying but sobbing, sounding like she's going to break in half or something so you work your arm around her and pull her against your side. "I know, babe." Her head tucks under your chin. "I've been there, you know? You love someone, things go wonky, and then you have to see them with someone else. It hurts, so you react on some random guy. At least all you did was fuck yours. I put mine in hospital."

Her laugh turns into a sob and she buries her head into your neck. You shush her a bit, let her cry her little heart out on your favorite shirt until she calms down. "Sorted?"

She sits up, blowing out a breath. "Yeah." Smiling a little at you, Naomi bumps her shoulder against yours. "Thanks, Cook."

"Anytime. You know that." You stand and put your hand out to help her up off the floor. She takes it, her cold fingers wrapping tight around yours as you pull her up.

(yeah, why do people keep saying that? me, president. you, my slave.)

In the spring Naomi starts getting letters and packets from university's, and she goes through them one by one, looking like she's gonna puke.

"Looking a little green there, Naomikins." Her bed is always made and full of those girly pillows, it's like falling on a big marshmallow. Totally worth her grumbling at you for mussing it all up. "Having some separation anxiety issues?"

"About separating from who?"

"Me of course. Admit it, you're going to cry yourself to sleep every night you'll miss me so much."

Her eyes roll. Sometimes you're amazed she can get them back down.

Naomi leans forward to say something she probably thinks is really important, but all you can focus on is that when she bends like that you can see right down her top. After a few minutes pass it must finally dawn on her that you've checked out of the conversation and she looks down. "Ugh." She swats your arm a few times with a good size catalogue and calls you a perv for good measure. Heh, fun times.

It's easy enough to put a stop to this. You catch her hands and pull her forward, pining her down under you and sitting on her legs so she can't kick anything of import. Funnily enough, it just seems to rile her up more. "Easy there, Tiger. Don't damage the goods, yeah?"

"Cook! She rages, squirming and turning all red, and it's starting to get you a little hot. "Get off me right now or you can say goodbye to the goods."

"Oh, feisty." You sit back and look down at her as she pushes herself up. She shoves you hard, probably as hard as she can, and you collapse in laughter. "Calm down, kitten. No need to resort to violence."

Naomi makes a sound of disgust in the back of her throat, and its actually pretty sexy too and you are probably going to have to get off of before she realizes just how sexy you find it. Last thing you need is her to think you're plotting to get in her knickers or something.

Not that you'd say no if she offered. You're not stupid.

You stand, adjusting your trousers in a way that hopefully doesn't look like what it is.

From the way her eyes narrow, it looks exactly like what it is. Naomi makes a face, telling you to get the fuck out of her room.

(but she doesn't love me.)

(she does. i know she does.)

(she loves you better.)

You can always tell when Naomi has bad news to tell you. Girl's got the worst poker face you've ever seen.

"Ayo, what's up with you?"

She fidgets just inside your doorway, for once making no comment about the mess or the smell of spliff or anything. It's weird. "What the fuck is wrong?"

"It's Effy."

Your stomach drops. "She alright?"

"She had some kind of breakdown. Her parents checked her into a clinic last night. Pandora said it was pretty bad."

Shit, panic is rising up your throat like bile, choking you and your fingers turn into jitters. You feel hollow. Breath increasing, you lay back and push the heels of your hands against your eyes, hard. It never used to be this hard to breathe before, but that might have something to do with the fact that Naomi's staring at you as if you're the most tragic thing she's ever seen.

It crosses your mind that you should kick her out before you do something stupid. There's rage and fear and all sorts of junk coursing through your veins and you just want to let it out before it eats you up from the inside. And Naomi is one of the only good things you've got in your life… you can't fuck it up, you just can't.

The bed shifts, and then Naomi is beside you on the bed, laying on her side, barely any space between you. When you look at her you see that her eyes are wet. Naomi's a great pal and all, but Effy isn't her favorite person in the world. She likes her yeah, but she wouldn't cry over her unless it's worse than you think. Scooting forward, she tucks herself into your side; forehead against your neck and arm around your waist.

After a few minutes, it helps. Your breathing slows down to match hers and the haze in your mind clears. All the tension in your body just sort of goes away as you pant through the left over feelings. You turn to Naomi, seeing that her eyes are no less watery, but she's not crying yet so maybe you're not looking as pitiful as you thought.

"She can have visitors in a few weeks. I'll go with you… if, you know, you want." She says it all quiet, like she's afraid you'll say no or something. Her voice is small and you want to make it better. Somehow.

He lets out a breath that sounds a little like a laugh, and he says yes, just as quietly.

(what's the fucking difference? nothing good ever stays with me. absolutely nothing)

Effy looks fucking terrible.

Naomi comes with you to the clinic, but stays out in the lobby while you go in to see Effy. She's all curled up in a big chair by the window in a sad pair of grey pajamas that hang on her tiny body. She sit in the chair across from her and wait for those blue eyes to focus on you.

"I saw you walk in," she says quietly. "You came with Naomi."

"Yeah."

Still not looking at you, she goes on. "She's a good friend, Naomi. She'll be there for you."

Alright then, way to be cryptic.

"So… you doin' okay in here?"

She sighs. "Why are you here, Cook?"

It throws you for a loop. Shouldn't it be obvious? It isn't as if you go around telling girls you love them all the time. As it happens, there aren't a lot of people that you do actually love. But Effy is one of them - otherwise you wouldn't even bother to come all the way out here to see her.

"What do you mean why am I here? Why the fuck do you think?"

Now she does look at you. She looks sad, and tired, and your heart still speeds up a tad just by looking at her.

"I'm poison, Cook. I kill everything I touch." She laughs, but it doesn't sound at all like she thinks its funny. "My whole family, we destroy anything good in our lives. Tony, he lost his girl, his friends, and before he could say sorry to them all he got hit by a fucking bus. My Mum… she couldn't handle what happened to Tony, so she downed painkillers until they stopped working. Then she downed on my Dad's boss, drove him away. You and Freddie and JJ, you were best friends until I came along. All of us, we tear things apart. You're better off without me."

"Isn't that my decision?"

"No."

Is she mental?

Effy turns herself further in her seat, propping her chin on her hand and fixing her eyes back out the window.

"Effy-"

"If I asked you to wait for me, for when I get out of here, would you?"

Like she even has to ask. "You know I would." And I would. It wouldn't even have anything to do with Freddie. I just want her.

"It wouldn't change anything," she says softly. "I'd just break your heart again."

That's it then I guess. She doesn't say anything else the whole time I'm there. I sit there, trying to talk to her, and she just keeps looking out the window.

And it all snaps.

You stand, kicking your chair until it skids into the wall and upend the table that sits on the other side of Effy's chair. Some of the more mental of the patients scream, and some stuff gets smashed against the wall. And you get pinned up by some overgrown prig in nurse's shoes. He holds your arms behind your back and you struggle to get loose. You need to get out of here; you need to get away from Effy. You need… something, anything, just as long as it's not about the fucking pain ripping its way through your heart.

"Cook!"

Then you're released and you start for the big oaf but Naomi's there, gripping your jacket lapels tightly and forcing you to look at her. "Cook, calm down okay, just stop it."

Effy's still in that fucking chair, staring at you two, no expression on her face.

When your eyes meet Naomi's she looks a scared, a little angry. Her eyes are way too bright and she's all flushed. It'd be hot under different circumstances.

Guess she heard the noise and decided to come see what was going on. Or, she heard the noise and figured it was you. Most likely.

"Cook," she says your name again, all soft and pleading like, trying to get through to you.

Sucking in great gulps of air, you nod at her, then at the nurse man, letting them know that you're okay.

You feel Effy's eyes on you, but you don't look at her. You're done looking at her.

"Come on," you tell Naomi, "let's get out of here."

(want to know a secret?)

(what?)

(i know the cure.)

Naomi doesn't press you on what happened with Effy. Can't take much to guess, what with the way you tore the place apart and all.

You want to go the pub, or maybe out to a party someplace, but Naomi refuses. Says she doesn't want to have to drag you home from a fight, and that you can't afford to get arrested again. Of course she's right - she usually is about stuff like this. So you stop off and get provisions on the way home.

Funny, how somewhere along the way Naomi's place became 'home'.

The two of you get totally smashed on the bottle of top label Scotch Naomi buys, then further wasted on the bottle of cheap stuff you got from the clearance bin and lay head to foot on her bed with all the lights off and the radio turned on low.

You take a drag off your joint and do smoke rings in the air above your face, imagining all your problems floating away with them.

Naomi sits up suddenly, swaying, and stares at you. "You're smoking?"

"Knew you were clever." You point it at her, grinning. "Want?"

Her nose scrunches up. "Only if you want me to throw up all over your… where's your shirt?"

You point at the floor. "I got hot."

"Oh." She flops back against the pillows, sighing so deep that even lying down you can see her chest rise and fall. Not a bad view. "Cook?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you love Effy?"

Your buzz sort of dies right then and there. Dropping the joint into the few drops of liquor left in the bottle, you roll over onto your side. It brings you face to foot with her - which is a fucking head trip when you're in a state. Letting the pattern of tiny stars on her stockings hypnotize you, you think about it. "Dunno really. Well, she's fit for one. Right? And she's always down for anything."

"That it?"

Any hard thinking right now and your head may spin around and pop off from overheating. But you know Naomi and she's not going to rest until you answer her. Or passes out. Whichever comes first.

"She makes my heart beat faster," you finally confess. "She's the only girl to ever do that."

Naomi shifts, turning this way and that and knocks against your thigh with her knee trying to move and ends up beside you again, this time face to face.

"Truth?" you ask, taking hold of some of her hair from where it falls on your shoulder and twirl it around your finger. "We're a lot alike, Ef and me. I just thought that… if anyone could love me, it'd be someone who gets it."

Naomi snorts, then giggles, finding the sound funny in her condition obviously. "I don't think Effy gets anybody, Cook. It's too much effort."

"Maybe." You sigh and turn back over on your back.

You keep playing with her hair, lost in thought, and don't even really notice her tracing the line of your tattoo at first. It feels good and makes you sleepy. Only now she's got you thinking, and if she can ask you, then you can ask her, yeah?

"Why did you love Emily?"

She sighs, and her hand stops moving. It splays out on your side, warm and soft, and you cover it with yours.

"It's hard," she says, "not to love someone who wants you so much."

You wouldn't really know.

"For a while, it was like… Emily saw me the way I wished I was. And she was so happy, she wanted forever and all that."

Laughing though you don't mean it, you run your finger up and down her arm. "No such thing as forever, babe."

She nods. Turning into you, she rests her head on your shoulder. When she sighs you can feel her breath hot against your skin. It feels nice. "You and I know that, Cook. But people like Emily… they don't get it. She believes in all that happily ever after shit."

"Gonna be hard for her, when she finally wises up."

It's not such a bad thing though, to want to be with somebody for more than a quick shag. The way you see it, the bad comes in when you can't find somebody who feels the same way about you. That's why you need mates. Good mates, like Naomi and JJ. And Freddie - when he cares enough. Mates stick around after the shag is over, they get bombed with you when your heart's been wrecked. That's why they matter more.

"Naomi?"

"Hmm?" She's almost asleep, not really paying attention.

Good thing. She'd probably give you that look of hers if she were awake. "Why haven't you and I ever gotten down to it?" You're curious.

She mumbles a bit, squirming into a comfy place. Her head sort of nestles there on your collarbone and the feeling of her hair tickling your skin causes funny things to happen in your stomach. "Cause we're friends," she says, "and we want to stay friends."

"Friends can't shag?"

"No. If you shag, then you become something else. It all changes."

(looking good naomikins.)

Freddie calls one day close to end of term. Thomas is having another club night and he actually wants you there.

"Has he gone off it then as well?"

Saying he doesn't know, Freddie tells you that maybe he figures he just wants to bury the hatchet or something. Its only a few more months before everyone splits up. Maybe he's getting nostalgic.

You laugh. Only Freddie would say something bent like that.

Naomi refuses to go. Says she doesn't feel up to watching Emily and her new girlfriend hang all over each other all night.

So you tell her about Freddie, about his Mum and everything he's tried to forget until Effy lost it and he couldn't anymore. "So you see, one party pooper is enough. We don't need another one."

She levels a doubting look on you. "Did you really just call me a party pooper?"

"Get your panties out of a twist and get up." You smack at her leg. "You want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you? You know I'm just mad enough to do it."

Rolling her eyes, she flips you off and pushes you out of the room so she can change.

When she comes down the stairs you actually drop your cigarette - it falls out of your mouth onto the rug and you pat the little black spot on the carpet. Eh, it should come out.

"Fucking hell," you choke out. Naomi never looks like this. She's wearing these really well fitting white trousers and a sparkly top and her hair is dead straight and like, shiny.

She stops on the stairs and looks down at herself. "What?"

"Nothing." You shake your head, wanting to think clearly before some jackass mess falls out of your mouth. "You just look… you know, beautiful and stuff."

You don't think she could look more stunned than if you were to confess love for her Mum. Cheeks heating up, you look away, not able to handle the way she's looking at you. It's almost like she can see inside your head when she does. Creepy as hell. And it makes you feel like some pansy ass wanker, not able to talk to a girl because she's hot.

She walks past you and grabs her jacket off the rack. "You're weirding me out. Can we just go and get this over with?"

"Um, yeah."

The two of you walk to the club and you see people looking at the two of you. Not that you blame them. You and Naomi, you're both worth staring at in your own opinion. And you both are looking especially good tonight. Of course they're staring.

Once you're inside you find Freddie at a table with a sour look on his face and empty cups all around. Naomi sits down and asks him how he's feeling.

You're not having any of that. "What is this, a pity party?" Pulling both of them to their feet and turning the three of you as one towards the dance floor, you take in a deep breath, revel in the scent of life; smoke and sweat and the heat of strobe lights and power cords. "We're young, we're single, let's live a little, eh?"

Naomi shakes her head. Freddie just continues to pout and shakes your arm off, heading over to the bar. You watch him go, wondering just when it was that he became such a drag.

When you look back at Naomi her eyes are fixed on the other side of the dance floor, where Emily and that little brunette are talking to Thomas. One of the strobes hits her face and she looks… you're not sure. Not sad, not angry. You really don't know, so you just move your hand to the back of her neck so she knows you're still there.

She smiles at you, and for once you feel like you've done something right.

(is there anyone else i care about that you want to slip one to, mate?)

Some bird named Sheila or Shelly or… Janice, something, finds you halfway through the night, cozying up good and close and gives you the eyes. Looks like its gonna be a good night.

She's asked the question - wanna get out of here? - after a few drinks and fewer songs that she spent all up on you. You're down, you just gotta make sure Naomi is alright to get home on her own first. If Freddie's not trashed, he'll see to her.

You spot her and yeah, Freddie is seeing to her. The two of them are standing together, smiling and going on, fucking looking like they're having a grand ole' time.

A familiar rush comes over you, a feeling you hate and know too well.

It's envy, anger, resentment - heavy and smothering, crawling its way up from that dark place inside of you that you're so scared of that you pretend it doesn't exist.

You think about Effy, about Karen and your Mum, and even JJ.

Leaving the girl and her offer behind, you make your way over towards them with purpose. "So what's this then?"

They both look at you - confused, big eyed innocence - and your blood begins to boil. Clenching your jaw together so tight that it aches, you let out a long breath through your nose, stiff-shouldered and frustrated about the whole thing. You don't know what you really want right now, but you are impossibly aware of what it is you're feeling the need to do.

You need to stop it from happening again.

"What's what?" Freddie asks. He's sobered up since you saw him last, but his eyes aren't completely focused so you figure he's only about half here and won't remember much tomorrow.

Gesturing between them and the not much space at all between their bodies. "You two, what's going on here?"

Freddie glances at Naomi. "Talking?"

"For now, right?"

Head moving like a cheap bobble head doll, all big eyes and open mouth, Naomi stares between you and Freddie, annoyance flushing her pale skin. "You," she says, "are unbelievable." Pushing past you, she makes her way out of the club without a look back.

Freddie gives you a look that borders on disgust and pity that makes you want to bash his head into the concrete wall. Shaking his head, he turns and walks off.

Shaking, you head to the bar, wanting to forget it all. It doesn't matter.

(you just burn, kid. you just burn. you just keep it on the inside.)

It feels like you've been throwing rocks for fucking ever before the window raises and Naomi pokes her head out. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Lost my keys, didn't I. Can't get in."

Face twisting in a sneer, she shuts the window. For a second you think she's going to leave you there until a little bit of light flicks on and then you hear the front door open. You knew she couldn't do that to you. Throwing your hands up, you manage to make it over to the door, hearing the crunch of flowers beneath your feet. "Naomikins! You're topnotch girl."

She clamps a hand over your mouth as she all but drags you in the door. You trip over your own feet but manage not to fall into anything.

"What if you'd waken up my Mum, Cook? What then?"

You scoff, trying to take off your shoes and failing miserably, ending up on the floor at the bottom of the steps. Looking up at Naomi - mostly up the end of her oversized sleep shirt - you grin. "Gina loves me."

"Gina loves sober Cook. Drunk Cook's a bit of a dickhead."

You laugh, too loud you guess and she nudges your leg with her foot. "Shut the fuck up." She reaches down and takes hold of you hand and your collar, hauling you to your feet. Somehow the two of you manage to get up the stairs and into your room where she drops you on your bed and pulls your shoes off. "Sit up," she orders, grabs your shirt and tugs you into a sitting position. You'd help if you could, but your arms don't seem to be working right.

She gets your jacket off and is going for your shirt when you raise your head to say you knew she was waiting to get your clothes off but she's so close. So fucking close. You're growing warm being this close and she smells fantastic, so you lower your head onto the crook of her neck and shoulder and just breathe.

Naomi jerks her shoulder and moves you off her so she can pull your shirt over your head and push you back on the bed. "Sleep it off."

Grabbing her wrist, you pull her down beside you on the bed, turning onto your side and snuggling up to her.

She gets all whiny at once. "Cook…"

With a shake of your head, you take hold of her elbow and pull her to face you. She doesn't look pissed anymore. Mostly just amused. Giving some small attempt at a smile, she settles down onto the bed and closes her eyes.

Her breathing slows down, but its not entirely even. She's not asleep yet.

"Naomi?"

Blue eyes slide open and look into yours. "Yeah?"

"About tonight…" You don't say sorry, not if you can help it - you don't like the way it tastes, or the way it makes you feel. But Naomi's fucking _been there_, so you figure you owe it to her. "I was a prat, alright? Things just get to me, and I react. You know?"

"I know."

Small fingers curl up in yours and snake over your wrist. It's the only real thing you've felt in God knows how long and it makes you ache all the way down to your toes.

You're not sure what you hope to accomplish by telling her any of this. You know deep down that she gets it, at least part of it. You've told her enough - she's seen enough - to not hold it against you but still, you just want to say it, out loud. So there's no mistake.

"I don't want you to fuck Freddie. I don't want him anywhere near you."

Naomi sits up and gapes at you like you've gone mental. Her mouth works like a fish's; not all the way open or closed but moving, no sound coming out. Finally she comes to herself and blinks a half dozen times. "I'm not gonna fuck Freddie."

Right. "You say that now-"

She slaps your arm, hard, and it stings. "Ow."

"I have no intention of ever sleeping with Freddie, Cook. Ever." Her voice is almost shrill, and she must remember that her mum is asleep down the hall. Yeah, Gina loves you and all, but she's may not be too square with Naomi in your bed with a drunk you in the middle of the night. Naomi lowers her voice, lowers her eyes, fidgets her hands in her lap. "I'm not Effy."

Three such little words shouldn't be allowed to hold so much meaning, but they do. They mean fucking everything because she's turned out to be the best mate you've ever had.

You don't want to lose her.

"I know." Your throat closes up, tears welling in your eyes. Shit, you're about to cry like a fucking girl. "But you're leaving, aren't you? You're going off to fucking university and where will I be? Here? I can't live with your mum after you've gone."

Naomi doesn't say anything. Knowing her, she's probably about to cry too - girl's a softie even if she won't admit it - and you just can't see it. You turn your head to the side and clench your jaw. Hopefully that will keep you in check. You need to stay in check.

You get hot when you're drunk. Not just fit hot, but actual hot, you always do. Only now it's cold. And you don't even realize that you're cold until Naomi lays back down beside you on your bed and curls herself half on top of you. Her arm slides over your stomach and one leg goes over your knee. You don't turn your head. Not even when you feel her face press into your jaw line and her breath ghosts over the cool skin of you neck.

She squeezes you, silently trying to tell you that she's here. She fucking _here_, and that just has to be enough.

"It's gonna be okay," she whispers, "I promise."

You want to believe that more than you've ever wanted to believe anything in your entire life. But you don't have a whole hell of a lot of experience with the good things. Neither does Naomi, not really. Maybe that's why it means so much.

"Yeah. It's all gonna be okay, babe. I know it."

(_deal_ with it.)

fin.


End file.
